Farewell
by Leslie Lady of Light
Summary: Sirius Black's thoughts as he leaves Abigail Loomis at the end of Gof. Based off Interwoven, by Katinka(31). Read the original first!


A/N: A scene from the fabulous story **Interwoven: The Seamstress and the Lovable Stray,** by Katinka. Sirius's thoughts (Ch. 8), an entry in "The Autobiography of Sirius Black." If you haven't read it already, do so NOW.

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I was already running along the familiar path to Abigail Loomis' house before I realized where I was headed. After Dumbledore had sent me off to gather the old Order, to go to Remus's, I'd run off as Padfoot, but my doggish steps took me in the direction of Hogsmeade instead, to one very familiar house. I'd run through the shadows, watching as Abby hurried home, glancing around her with slight urgency; she had surely heard of what had befallen Harry.

She heard me before she saw me running frantically at her; Padfoot had either lost the ability to pad about silently or her instincts, strangely sharp in a Hufflepuff, had trained her to be wary of dark shadows.

Grasping her wand, she put a hand on the doorknob and with the other, pushed me inside before turning around to lock the door with the numerous wards Dumbledore designed for her safety.

(The thought of Abby, her narrow existence, working the shop during the day and weaving at night with nothing to comfort her lonely hours, even now makes my blood boil with rage at Dumbledore, for devising such an arrangement, but – that is over now.)

She turned to face me and the sight of her worried, dear face, haggard from the long evening and the obvious fear in her face broke down the last of my defenses. Poor Harry's disturbing story had made me angry, hurt, sad, upset, and now seeing Abby, affected by all this as well, I gave up trying to be brave and strong.

Transforming back into a man, I threw myself into her arms, inadvertently pinning her to the door, taking brief refuge in another's warmth and safety. I could hear her faint questions but I was in no state to answer anything - slowly, the torment in my soul went away as her comforting embrace brought me back around.

She knew about Harry, and Voldemort, and I felt so weak, for having to be comforted by her, instead of the other way around. But frankly, I was desperate here and I told her so.

"I'm glad Harry has you," she told me. "You'll look after him."

My spirits sank even lower at that, if possible. What kind of a godfather was I, if I couldn't even be around to protect Harry? I looked up at her, but found I couldn't meet her blue-green eyes, so beautiful, full of warmth and caring.

There was no kind way to tell her that I would be leaving, again. I recalled the hurt and anguish it had put her through and avoiding her gaze, I muttered the words as softly as I could.

"I have to go."

I couldn't look into her eyes. I felt her go still, saw her face pale out of the corner of my eye. "Dumbledore has things for me to do. I'm to go to Remus tonight."

Now it was her turn to look away. I anxiously searched her face for some sign, any sign, that she – well, whatever I hoped for, I didn't exactly get it. Abby's face was sorrowful and wan but it was as though a mask had fallen over it. I could see nothing of her feelings.

I sighed, and slowly stood up, stepping away from her comfortable warmth. Obviously perturbed, she tried to get up to get me some food. I glanced down quizzically as she remained seated.

Abby sent me a rueful smile, the kind that crossed her face when she bumped into things. Which was often. I reached out and pulled her to her feet, holding onto her hands, unusually cold, and trying to catch one last whiff of her summery-scented hair. She seemed embarrassed, and took her hands away without looking into my face.

I waited by the door, watching as she packed practically all the food in her house. I wanted to tell her to stop, to make her take some stuff out, keep it for herself, but I knew I couldn't. It was her special way of saying goodbye - thank you - I love you?

_Not quite, Sirius,_ I told myself, sighing slightly. A small smile threatened to cross my grimly set features as she put in the whole tin of ginger biscuits; I caught sight of a small scrap of white in the box, but was too tired to ask about it.

Abby finally emptied what looked like her whole pantry into the inconspicuous bag and handed it to me. Her face was set and she looked like she was trying to keep from trembling. She was very likely upset by the events of the night and now my sudden departure.

"I have to go," I said, wanting her to say something, anything. She had to, I could not leave with knowing –

Abby reached for the door, warded so only she could open it. I stared at the blue knob, remembering the countless number of times I had tried it, as Padfoot, as Sirius. I had not been able to feel other than an escaped convict while I could not even open the door to a place I considered home. I watched her hand near it, slowly, hesitantly, and wondered if she knew just how much I hated that cheerful knob.

I was just turning to leave when she suddenly cried out, stopping me in my reluctant tracks. I turned and watched in slight confusion as she ran to her cupboard and began throwing things out madly. I was just about to go to her and ask what the matter was when she pulled out a shimmering, shadowy cloth.

Her Invisibility Cloak.

More than a little confused, I watched as she came towards me with the cloak draped over her arm. I confess, I had not a clue what was coming next.

Abby took the folds of the Invisibility Cloak and lightly laid it on my shoulder. My eyes widened as she considered it for half a second, as though checking the fit of a garment, then pressed it more firmly into my arms.

"Since we're in dispute as to whether you saved my life, I won't bother with saving yours." The look of understanding that had started to dawn on my face as quickly left.

"I will, however, give you something that someday may."

I stared at the shining garment that she had so casually gifted to me. But that was Abby's way, to make a joke when she was in a distressing situation.

As for the time I'd saved her life, that was nothing. I'd barked ferociously several times at Hagrid's baby Blast-Ended Skrewt, and it had scuttled away. Then I'd dragged her back home, causing irreparable damage to her robes and engraving Padfoot's teeth into her wand in the process.

_She wanted to give me an Invisibility Cloak because of **that**?_

Just to make fully sure, I said, "This is the cloak you had in the cellar?" _The one that took you 18 years to make?_

She nodded.

"I can't take it," I told her flatly, hoping the firmness in my tone would get that slightly irritating, adorable look of mounting amusement off her face.

I added a slightly stern look for good measure.

Now the amusement was definitely there.

"I'm sorry," she told me in a haughty voice that reminded me of the way she sometimes dealt with the lowly bar-blokes who occasionally bothered her.

"Magically binding contracts being what they are, I'm afraid you'll have to."

Trying not to think of the scariness of that thought, I tore my eyes away from her face and fingered the cloak, lightly, reverentially. _I couldn't care if Merlin made an Invisibility Cloak, Abby's would always be better. _

I realized with a pang of annoyance that such thoughts weren't exactly helping my resolution of not taking the cloak.

"I'm not certain that I can," I tried instead. Surely there needed to be a better reason for Britain's last Weaver to gift an Invisibility Cloak than questionable heroism?

Abby looked unconvinced.

"I – I've done very little for you, Abby," I said quietly. Very little good anyway.

Abby gently took my arm and said in the kindest voice she had, "Please, take it. It belongs to you."

I looked up into her face, my fingers tightening around the smooth, fluid folds. I would never be able to thank her for this.

The familiar feel of an Invisibility Cloak in my hands brought back memories of Hogwarts days, when James, Remus, Peter and I would go off on our mischief missions. I half-closed my eyes, trying to imagine that I was in Hogwarts, standing outside Gryffindor tower, a full moon lighting the base of the Whomping Willow. Four boyish voices laughed and joked and my eyes flew open at a familiar voice, similar to one that I had so recently heard.

_"I officially begin this night of Marauding Mischief! Somebody, wake Padfoot up. _A laugh._ Lazy lout." _

"It looks so much like James' cloak," I murmured, trying to shake off the boyish voice that sounded so much like Harry's.

"Thank you." I looked deep into her eyes as the words fell out of my mouth and rolled back in on the others that wanted to follow. Like waves.

There was so much I wanted to say: thank you, goodbye, I'll never forget you, I'll be back. _I love you_.

"I have to go."

Brill, Sirius.

Abby looked at me with sad, sweet eyes. I gazed down at her with increasing desperation: I needed to finish this, have some kind of closure, know what she – _if_ she felt anything.

"Go," she said simply, and my heart sank. She did not consider me anything other than a friend. A friend who left often and broke hearts oftener.

How ever could I hope that I deserved more?

"You can't stay a kept man forever," she added with a slight sniff.

Stay a kept man forever? Oh bloody hell, the _farthest_ thing from my mind. Who in the world would want new robes, and delicious meals and ginger biscuits and hot cocoa? Who wouldn't want the most desirable, sweet, wonderful witch in the world in their lives everyday?

I looked straight into her eyes. Blast consequences, I needed to have her know. I couldn't leave like that.

"I haven't minded." Please, _please_, understand what I'm too bloody scared to say.

She couldn't take the hint.

"Neither have I."

I stared at her for one long, last minute, trying to understand her, trying to make her understand, and finally gave up. I sighed and was turning to the door when a pair of cold hands suddenly went around my neck, pulling my face back towards her. Before I could say … "flaming Quaffles!"… she had pressed her lips to my rough cheek and kissed me. With a good bit more passion than mere friendliness warranted.

Feeling my heart soar, I dropped the parcels and turned around to completely engulf her in my arms. I – couldn't describe the feelings running through my heart and mind then, not that I'm going to try.

After the longest moment, I pulled away, fondly pushed some of her stray hair behind her ear and with one last look, transformed into Padfoot. As I crossed through her garden and passed through the front gate, gently nudging it shut behind me, I knew I would always have a home here.

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End file.
